


The One You're With

by zarabithia



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Biting, Daddy Kink, Kinks, M/M, Nobody is Vanilla Here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-28
Updated: 2006-08-28
Packaged: 2019-05-19 15:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14876690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Dick went away.  Hal came back.





	The One You're With

In the days that were far enough away that Roy supposed they have earned the qualifier "Good Ole," Hal Jordan had called him "Son" quite often.

There'd been nothing perverse about it. Hal had been the best friend of Roy's father figure. That didn't mean that Roy _hadn't_ spent more than his fair share of nights jerking off to a variety of pleasant mental images that time with Hal had provided. The older man had always been hot, in a way too straight laced, good- to- the- core kind of way that Roy apparently imprinted on enough to seek out in the members of his sexual partners that _weren't_ women who wanted to kick his ass.

Okay, maybe that wasn't _Hal's_ fault, since Robin had been in his life _first,_ and despite all that had happened, Roy was willing to admit that Dick had left quite an indelible mark on his life that Roy was never going to be able to shake. So, in some twisted way, maybe it was at least partially Dick's fault that Roy had spent more than one night of his teenage years recalling overheard grunts shared between Ollie and Hal to use as fodder for his own sex life.

All of that was really besides the point, of course. Regardless of what _Roy_ may have lusted for all those years ago, _Hal_ had considered himself an uncle, and a damn good one. The responsibility that he'd never been obligated to have towards Roy - but for which Roy knew he owed a good portion of his sanity, not to mention his life - had prevented Hal Jordan from having anything but familial affection in his voice when he'd called Roy "Son."

But one day, shortly after the last big Crisis had been fought, Hal called him "Son" once again, just as he had a thousand times before. This time was different, though, and Roy knew he was in trouble when Hal's particular tone for that familiar endearment caused a shiver to run down his spine in the kind of way it never had before.

Nothing came out of that incident, and Roy decided that he really was just imagining things. He merely chalked up what was obviously a delusion to the simple fact that he still _missed Dick so very much._

Though it may have been Roy's longing for his absent partner that made him look for meaning that wasn't there in Hal's voice, no craving for his missing childhood sweetheart would have caused Roy to mistake the implication that came when Hal Jordan invited him to go flying.

Hal Jordan invited him _to go flying_.

The obviousness of Hal's favorite pick up line was so clear by now that Roy honestly didn't know why he kept using _the same one_ over and over _._ But because Hal always did, there was no wiggle room for interpretation in either the invite or Roy's acceptance of the invite.

The occasional fondling of Roy's balls or casual way that Hal tapped Roy's ass during the flight really left no doubt about intent, either. Roy gave his best smile in return, the one that said _"Hell, yes, Old Man, I will fuck your brains out,_ " because it had been a while since Roy's bedded someone that really knew him. While he may very well have missed Dick. . . and Roy wasn't stupid enough for a minute to believe that he'd ever stop missing Dick, Nightwing had left _._ Not only that, he had leftwithout any indication of when he was coming back, and it wasn't as though Dick was coming back to _him,_ even when that stupid Bat Bonding Experience was over.

They were far too irrevocably screwed up for that, weren't they? Besides, just because Roy wanted Dick to come back, didn't mean that he wasn't hard up, horny, and entirely willing to be fucked by someone that could be bothered to give a damn.

Despite all of Roy's very willing responses to Hal's come-ons, Hal had dropped Roy off at the end of the night without so much as a kiss or a blow job, and Roy had been more than a little confused. A quick trip to the corner club had provided Roy with an easy, warm, and willing body to work off his frustration, but he'd spent the better half of the rest of the week being quite pissed off at Hal, which was an entirely new experience for him.

But a week later, when Hal called Roy up and asked if he wanting to take in a boxing match that weekend, it finally sunk into Roy's head what the older man was trying to do.

Hal was trying to _date_ him.

Actually, Hal was pretty old, so maybe back in his day they'd still called it "courtin'," or something equally ridiculous. Dating wasn't a foreign concept, of course. Roy'd had to date Donna for some time before he'd even gotten to second base, but the fact that Hal was willing to put so much effort into _dating_ when Roy had made it very obvious that it wasn't a requirement in order to get to the sex. . . It had made Roy feel very wanted and, as cheesy as it sounded, _special,_ that he was quite willing to remain sexually frustrated for as long as Hal Jordan thought he was worth the effort.

Still, Roy was the first to admit that he was an incorrigible slut. Thus, one night when Hal had suggested the three of them have dinner, he'd readily agreed, merrily sent Lian off to stay with Ollie, and opened the door wearing the tightest pair of pants he owned and absolutely nothing else.

He had to give Hal credit, though. Hal did manage to consume two full spoonfuls of warmed over Queen Chili that Roy had chosen on purpose before he'd abandoned his bowl and moved onto trying to devour Roy. After stumbling over several of Lian's toys - _dammit, he'd told her about leaving those in the hallway -_ they finally reached the bedroom and it really didn't take much persuasion on Roy's behalf to convince Hal to undress. As Hal's pants finally came off, Roy was hit by an overwhelming sensation of pleasure. . .no. . .joy?. . .relief? . . . _something_ that, after several weeks of trying, flirting, and waiting, he was finally going to be rewarded for his patience.

His mind kept trying to draw useless parallels between this act and one far too many years ago to bother with remembering, but Roy refused to allow his memories the right to wander. He attempted to dissuade his mind's stubbornness by focusing his full attention on the man in his arms _at the present_. Roy's mouth was really only too happy to comply.

Hal pulled away only once, and Roy pushed away that _goddamn fear_ that he was going to stop in order to let the man ask, "Son, are you sure you're ready for this?"

Roy ground his hips against Hal's own, both as a reply and as a response to the decade old pet name. He was rather pleased with his own finesse as the mere grinding elicited a groan of _want_ from the older man. "I was ready three weeks ago," he whispered next to the ear lobe that his tongue had the sudden urge to taste.

"You sure? I didn't want to push you."

"I'm not a fucking virgin, Hal." Roy's tongue was replaced by his teeth, which he clamped down on what had turned out to be a very tasty ear lobe - for the five seconds that his mouth made contact before his jaw was being roughly jerked away and held in place.

"In that case, Son, you should know better than to bite until I ask." The only light in the room was the soft green glow of Hal's ring, which illuminated the severe scowl on the older man's face.

For a brief, terrified minute, Roy was certain that Hal was going to stop. . . that Roy had messed everything up and Hal had finally discovered that Roy Harper didn't have what he wanted after all.

That fear was greatly alleviated when Hal let go of his chin and dropped his own mouth to Roy's collarbone, leaving a trail of bites-some feather light, others hard enough to leave a mark that would still be there in the morning, and still some others that would leave a mark that would still be there in a week's time. Roy relished the touch, because no random bar fuck could have ever guessed. . .could have _known_ the exact order to place the nibbles along his skin to draw that reaction.

To be fair, there were only two other people who knew that, one of whom was off serving her gods. The other was on a _road trip_ with Batman, and hadn't given any indication that he gave a damn about Roy in over two years.

It was the fault of both his wandering mind and Hal's perfect mouth that Roy was breathless by the time Hal had finished the taste test and propped up on elbow. "I didn't bring any lube or condoms with me, seeing as I was supposed to be meeting your little princess. You have some in stock, I hope?"

Oh, hell, it wasn't fair of Hal to expect him to move. Roy sat up and reached for top drawer of his nightstand. He carefully noted how sore his neck was already and how more sore it was going to be tomorrow.

As Roy's attention was diverted, he failed to notice the wandering constructs of Hal's ring until he turned around and noticed, quite to his horror, that Hal had discovered a certain locked red chest that Roy had kept far from Lian's prying eyes in the back of the closet. It was a chest that hadn't seen any use since the last time Dick had walked away.

An obscenely large green hand had formed from Hal's ring and was picking the lock of the chest expertly. Part of Roy's mind screamed at him to make Hal stop, because the chest contained several toys that Roy hadn't been intending to share with Hal Jordan anytime soon. Dammit, Roy knew he should have gotten rid of those things altogether when Dick left. "Hal, I don't think you'll like what you find in there," Roy warned gently, surprised and angry at himself that his voice came out as more of a suggestion than a request to stop.

But it was too late, because the box was already opened, and all of it's contents were being carefully examined by the man lying half beside, half on top of him. Roy waited silently, that old, familiar fear of not screwing up and not being wanted resurfacing, because yeah, biting was kind of kinky. However, on a kink scale of one to ten, it ranked sufficiently lower than a full third of the devices that were currently being fondled by that ominously green hand.

When he was finished, Hal carefully placed all the other toys in the box and locked it before turning his attention back to Roy. "You know, Son, you've grown up into quite the interesting young man. But I do hope you realize that none of your toys can do the things this ring can." Hal paused long enough to look down at his fist fondly. "And you look _very_ good in green, Roy."

Roy hesitated, because the toys in that box were part of games that he didn't just play with anyone. He'd gone through too much shit in his life for trust to be a readily dealt commodity. Trust was too much of an understatement - his very favorite kinks required giving up total control and being fully and completely owned by his partner. Considering how the _last_ person that he'd allowed that privilege had thrown it all away, starting from scratch frightened Roy in the same kind of way that the fresh smell of gunpowder still did.

"So, tell me, Son, what do you want?"

But Hal had come back from the dead to rejoin his family and friends - and that including Roy. If that wasn't someone he could trust, who was?

So, Roy leaned back and told Hal exactly what he wanted.


End file.
